Innocence
by lwbush
Summary: Two friends meet in their youth. Winner of the 2000 Golden Quill Award for "Best Vingnette."


# Innocence

By Lori Bush

Disclaimer: Joxer, Gabrielle and their respective families are the property of RenPics and Universal/USA Studios. This is a non-profit organization (me, not them).

Rating: G – squeaky clean. See, I _can_ still write 'em that way.

Violence: Some minor angst, no violence.

Sex: Not a bit, sorry.

I took a poll on a chat recently with some GJRSer's that I much admire, and asked them what story from my backlog I should put out next. This one won, so here it is. 

Thank you, Chris. As always you poked, prodded and shaped the original to make it a much better finished product. This is dedicated to Marjie, for fairly obvious reasons. I love you, sweetie.

** **

Gabrielle looked to her left, then to her right, finally spinning in a full circle. She had never been anywhere so grand, so _large_ as this place. Surely Corinth was the most magnificent city in all of Greece! Father had had business with the government here, and had agreed to bring his two daughters along. Their mother had been hesitant, but finally Gabrielle had persuaded her to let them go. Lila, in Gabrielle's opinion, was _far_ too young for such a trip, but she, at almost twelve, _deserved_ to see such a wonderful city! If only they could have come by land. She paled again at the memory of the voyage, having spent most of her time hanging over the railing of the ship. It took two days on the road after landing at Megara before she could even look at food again.

Lila tapped her on the shoulder. "Gabrielle," she said to her enrapt sister, "Watch where you're going. You almost ran into that lady there." The older girl looked up into the irritated face of a passerby.

"Oops," she stammered, "s-s-sorry." Even so, it was only a few moments before her green eyes lit upon some new treasure, and she was looking at everything but where she was going, once again.

"You know," Lila stated, trying to get her sister's attention, "they say Athens is _much_ nicer."

Gabrielle turned on her sister in anger. "What do _you_ know, pipsqueak? You've never been there. _You_ shouldn't even be _here_. You can't appreciate it." Then just as suddenly as it had flared, her anger faded. She loved her little sister, and couldn't stay mad at her long. "Besides," she reasoned, "we aren't _in_ Athens, we're here, and that makes Corinth better! Look," Gabrielle pointed, "I'll race you to the agora!" 

With that, the lithe blonde girl took off running, her younger and slightly pudgier sibling trailing behind. Peering behind her to check on her sister's progress, Gabrielle failed to see the young man she was heading for until she plowed right into him. They tumbled to the ground in a heap of arms and legs, the boy dropping the large vase he was carrying, which rolled, unharmed, into the mud on the edge of the street.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry." Gabrielle leapt gracefully to her feet, smoothing her dress and reaching out her hand to help him up. "I didn't see you. Are you hurt?" She looked down at the young man. He seemed dazed, staring at his feet and not at the helping hand she extended.

"I'm sure it was my fault…somehow," he stated morosely. "It always is." He looked up, and saw Gabrielle's hand. As he accepted her help and she pulled him to his feet, she finally looked him full in the eyes. They were the darkest brown eyes she had even seen, and they looked so sad.

She studied him, curious to know what could make someone have eyes that ached with that kind of pain. He was tall, and thin – lanky, really. He was a little older than she was, at that awkward age, when boys are all angles – elbows and knees going every which way. His hair flapped over one eye, and he reached up to push it back, succeeding in relocating it for only a moment before it dropped back down again. He began looking around, in a panic. "The vase," he fretted, "oh, please don't let it be broken."

She began examining the area, as he searched the other direction. Noticing a bit of color in the nearby mud, she hurried to check. "Here it is!" she called triumphantly. Leaning over to pull it out, she felt herself falling, "O-o-o-h, my…" she yelped, then felt strong arms grab her and pull her back before she landed head first in the puddle.

He smiled at her startled gaze. He had a funny grin, and she found herself smiling back, in spite of the fact he was still holding her around the waist. "You didn't have to dive in after it," he said, amused. He released her, and she tugged her wayward dress straight again.

"Uh," she pointed, "it's right there." 

Gabrielle had always dreamed of being a poet, or perhaps an artist, so she was trying hard to remember all the details of what had happened - how she had felt, being rescued like the heroine of one of the stories she would write one day. Only, she would be saved from something better than a mud puddle - maybe she would even save someone herself...

Joxer watched the girl as her mind wandered. She was young, but not much younger than some of the girls his father was trying to get Jett to take up with. Dad always said that a _good_ warlord needed a _good_ wife at home to take care of things. Then he would slap their mother on the rear, never failing to bring tears to her eyes. Joxer fiercely hoped that none of the girls he had grown up with chose to marry his brother, who was taking after their father in most other areas. They all seemed too nice to be subjected to such treatment.

He knew his father would never search for a wife for him. In fact, Joxer felt he could be considered lucky if he even survived long enough to be of a marriageable age. His "idiot son," he called him. Not capable of handling the family business. Too soft. No, his father had no interest in Joxer's future at all. And even his father was astute enough to realize that Jace was not in the market for a girl…

He found himself wondering who this girl was. Not that he knew every girl in Corinth, by any means. But she was, he wasn't sure… soft, pretty, someone he knew he'd have noticed before. As she stood before him, her strawberry blonde braids loose and swirling in the breeze, and her green eyes dreamy, he found himself thinking that this is just what Aphrodite must have looked like when she had been that age. She was just beyond being a little girl, but not yet a woman. He hung his head in shame. He shouldn't even be looking at someone like that, he was just the family moron, no good to be around.

Just then, a smaller, dark-haired child ran up and tugged on her sleeve. "You have to see these pretty vases they have over here, c'mon."

"Vases." The word startled both the young people from their reveries, reminding them of their shared purpose. "I'll be along in a few minutes, Lila," the older girl said, blushing slightly as she looked at Joxer. "I'll meet you there." And she propelled the child back in the direction she had come. She looked him straight in the eye for a moment, then hung her head. "I'm sorry, I was daydreaming when I should have been working. Father gets so upset when I do that at home."

He had to smile. This wasn't even her problem, and yet she was apologizing for not helping him. "I was, too." Oh, Zeus, why did his voice have to break NOW? It had almost stopped doing that. Maybe she didn't notice. Yeah, right. He shrugged, and turned to the puddle. "If I hang onto your left hand, you should be able to lean over and snag it with your right," he suggested. She nodded, and soon the two had retrieved the wayward pottery. 

"Thanks." He was kind of sorry he had the vase back, although he knew he would have been lucky to escape with his hide had he broken or lost it. But now, she had no reason to stay.

She looked at her feet, suddenly shy. "I have to go now, my sister will be waiting. I'm real sorry I ran into you."

He smiled, and for the first time since she had seen him, it reached his eyes. "I'm not." She giggled slightly, then turned and ran off to where the younger girl had gone.

"Hey, stupid," Joxer heard his brother call from behind him. Thank the gods he hadn't been a few minutes earlier. He would have spoiled the best thing to happen to Joxer since, well, he couldn't remember when. "How'd you get the vase all muddy, idiot?" Jett shoved him, almost causing the dirty piece to slip again from his brother's hands. "Showing off for the little girly, huh?"

Joxer pulled himself to his full height. "Shut up, Jett," he said sharply. 

Jett tensed, as if he were going to make Joxer regret those words, then relaxed. "Aw, it doesn't matter. Dad'll beat the tar outta ya anyway, for getting his precious vase all dirty. He does a better job than I do most of the time."

Joxer sighed, and followed his brother down the street. Jett was right; he was going to pay when he got home. At least, this time, the price he paid would be for something worthwhile. He stopped, and turned back towards the agora. He had never asked for her name. He realized it was too late, and turning back towards home he offered a silent prayer to Aphrodite that someday, somehow, he would meet a girl just like her again.


End file.
